Progressive
by Aeria
Summary: Kurt and Blaine smut. Alone in a big house for the night fluffy smutty first time fun ensues with a little bit of fighting and awkwardness thrown in for good measure. Now with added SEQUEL in which the pair explore each other some more.
1. Chapter 1

_Title: _Progressive

_Rating: _M

_Warnings: _Well, let's just say it gets a bit sexy but not particularly kinky at all.

_Summary: _Blaine's looking after the house of a family friend for the weekend so what better opportunity some one on one time with Kurt. This very vaguely follows from my first two Kurt/Blaine stories, _Risk _and _Caught out in a storm_, in that Kurt and Blaine have dealt with _Sexy_ and had a few fights and gotten very comfortable with kissing each other. Still, Blaine's a little overly tentative and Kurt's a little silly about trying to get Blaine not to be. Don't have to read them, this only vaguely alludes to it. (Epic summary is epic)

All you really need to know is that it's fluffy smutty goodness.

_Spoilers_: Up to and including 2x16 but that's it.

_Characters: _Kurt/Blaine

_Words_: almost 6000…

_A/N: _So you guys keep leaving me lovely reviews and I obviously don't care about my PhD at the moment or the integrity of scientific writing because writing this stuff is ruining my ability to write papers. This is just the obvious next step for me with Blaine and Kurt with a little bit of kissing and a little bit of fighting leading to a little bit more. It is, admittedly, my first time writing smut for the so I would, as always, love to know what you think. Constructive crit and love are both adored. Oh and Americanisms, I'm paranoid about them.

Enjoy, okay?

Blaine's family are mostly a painful, annoying aspect of life. They aren't as open to the idea of a gay son as they could be but that isn't the half of it; gay or not they are your typical upper middle-class breed of bad parents, The way Blaine's older sister had turned out is testament to that. On the most part Blaine doesn't let it worry him and on the most part they agree to disagree. On the most part, Blaine has your typical teenage boy's relationship with his parents.

However, unlike many teenagers, it's easy for him to find silver linings. As much as he could hate that they both have important time-consuming jobs and that he rarely sees them and that they have several stuck-up rich friends who judge him constantly, he doesn't.

Because if none of that were the case he would not have been asked by a family friend to stay the weekend at a very nice, very empty house to protect it from the rag-tag bunch of miscreants who were beginning to inhabit the nicer parts of town.

But he had been asked and he had agreed and he hadn't mentioned to anyone that he would be entertaining a guest. Of course, Kurt has told his dad the most of it, has said Blaine is house-sitting and wants company and yes there are lots of bedrooms and no, Blaine isn't going to suddenly stop being a gentleman and no, there won't be alcohol. They're going to watch movies and talk about clothes and bake a cake.

Like hell.

Kurt walks into this very nice house with a fairly good idea of what he wants to spend the night doing and movies and cake and talking are not key at all. Blaine grins like a man in love and takes Kurt's coat and overnight bag and guides him through the impressive front hall, down a corridor through an archway and into the impressive lounge. Not just your couch and tv room, but a room with seating for a dozen people and a television that takes up half of the fairly substantial wall. Kurt makes the appropriate sounds of awe and allows himself to be seated on one of the big plush three-seater couches facing the entertainment unit.

An hour later and they are watching a movie and Blaine has cooked – all by himself – pizza from scratch and they're picking at what remains. It's been mostly silence, comfortable, both of them enjoying the film and the presence of the other and the way Blaine's right thigh presses to Kurt's left where they're sat beside each other even though they really didn't have to.

Half an hour after that and Blaine's managed to rearrange them so that he's pressed to the corner of the couch and Kurt's slowly leaning back against his chest, one of Blaine's arms over his shoulder, drawing lines up and down his arm. Comfortable, still silent, movie still running.

Kurt's about to scream from the torture of it all. Oh, it's nice, to finally be alone and able to sit like this and feel the presence of each other without worrying about being judged but Kurt is slowly training Finn not to stare wide-eyed when he catches them like this at home and both Burt and Carole have succumbed to Kurt's impassioned logic that if Finn can sit like this with Quinn one week and Rachel the next, Kurt and Blaine can as well.

What Kurt can't do at home is more and that's what he wants here but Blaine has once again failed to read the signals. It's been, what, almost two months? Kurt reasons, and the progression has been agonizingly slow. For Kurt, at least. And there was Blaine, so convinced he would be the one pushing Kurt.

Enough of that.

"That pizza," Kurt begins, lifting a hand and considering the state of his nails as he speaks, "Did you follow a recipe for that?"

He can sense just the slightest tension sliding into Blaine behind him and he's appalled to find himself just slightly turned on by it.

"Yeah, I got one off the internet," comes the older boy's wary response.

"And you didn't change anything?" Kurt presses, letting his classic bitch voice wrap around the words.

It's a voice Blaine knows well from their few and far between verbal scuffles, most famously Kurt's 'Blaine and the Pips' speech. They talked about it once and Blaine admitted that he always thought of that moment as being when Kurt stopped being 'young, innocent, in need Kurt' and started being 'stands up for himself and will put you in your place Kurt'. Blaine had joked it was a little bit sexy but hadn't admitted that it was actually entirely sexy and powerful but probably not effective if he wants to find fault with Blaine's cooking.

"Yeah, I had to swap some of the toppings because I didn't have the right things. And I know you hate mushrooms."

Kurt makes an extremely noncommittal sound of disdain and flicks his nails for effect.

What the hell? Blaine had gone out of his way to make tonight special. A movie he knew Kurt had wanted to see for a while. Dinner, cooked on the premises and pretty damn good. There were candles. There was soft music for later. "Hey," he says, blatant confusion and offence in his tone as he places his hand against Kurt's arm to make him turn and look at him.

Something gives away the situation when Kurt turns around, maybe it's a moment of regret or a moment of amusement but something in his eyes is a lie and Blaine is now more confused than before. "What's going on?"

"It just wasn't all that great," Kurt replies.

Blaine's face screws up because he was sure an hour ago Kurt was groaning around a mouthful and nodding his praise. "It was fine," he says back, more than a little upset.

"No, it wasn't, it was pretty average," Kurt says primly, still in bitch mode but his eyes on Blaine's lips, staring with intent.

"Why are you trying to start a fight with me?" Blaine manages to hit the metaphorical nail on the head and Kurt starts, eyes wide to have been caught out so blatantly even though Blaine was pretty damn confused up until that reaction. "Oh my god, you are trying to start a fight with me?" and he laughs, a bit confused still but mostly just amused at the look on his boyfriend's face. "Why?"

Kurt lunges for him. Stuff all this talking and watching movies, other than a very chaste meeting of lips when he first arrived he has gotten nowhere and that is stupid. So he lunges and wriggles around until he can get his hands free and across Blaine's jaw, one either side, and hold him still as he kisses him hard.

Blaine does not object. Surprised but reacting quickly to the hot, desperate press of Kurt's lips on his and then their tongues find each other and lap and suck and it's hot and breathless and over too soon.

Hand's against Kurt's chest, Blaine presses him back, laughing and groaning into his mouth as he pushes him away. Kurt pouts and Blaine's not convinced he's ever seen that before but is rather convinced it's rather appealing and adds it to the very long list of 'Sexy Things Kurt Does' in his head.

"What's going on?" About the tenth question in a row.

Kurt sighs through the pout and runs a hand through his hair, throwing it askew and that goes on the list as well. He sits back on his knees and says, "I was trying to start a fight." It sounds so dumb when he says it out loud.

"Why?" A little distracted by the hair and shirt that, now that he's letting himself look, is rather tight and plain and short sleeved and v-necked for Kurt. Wow.

Kurt's answered and Blaine's missed it entirely. "Sorry what?"

"Whenever we fight we end up making up pretty sufficiently and so far the making up has highlighted our relationships' more physical side." Kurt blushes. It's adorable.

"You want to get into my pants so you started a fight with me about my cooking?" Blaine asks quite the tinge of amusement to his words.

"Not your pants, per se."

Oh wow, only Kurt could pair 'your pants' with 'per se' and get away with it.

"But I thought we'd be taking advantage of tonight. I thought we'd at least be making out." He rolls his eyes at that particular phrase, they've discussed it but Kurt can't think of a less embarrassing way of putting it.

"At least?" Blaine queries, intrigued and a little breathless at the helpful images his mind always provides when Kurt pushes their boundaries.

Kurt just rolls his eyes again and rolls back off his knees to lean into the opposite side of the couch. "I'm not saying I want to go all the way, we both agreed we're not going to go rushing into that but I think tonight provides the opportunity for certain exploratory experimentation."

"You wanna fool around?" Blaine jokes rather seriously.

Kurt growls, actually growls. On the list. And then he reaches out, long arms, strong arms and a flexible body so he can reach over and grab a fistful of cardigan and yank. Blaine could fight it, could easily hold his ground but why would he? He's on Kurt quickly, lips on lips and a hand steadying himself against Kurt's hip as they kiss again. Hunger and heat and Kurt still tastes a little of pizza. Pizza that was perfectly fine.

Blaine pulls back just enough open his eyes and watch Kurt's blue ones staring back. "Next time just ask?"

Kurt mumbles something against his lips but it's lost and who cares? They kiss again, Blaine's hand slipping under Kurt's shirt to find skin, smooth and strangely hot to the touch and both of Kurt's hands are on Blaine's back, moving up and down and remembering how good his ass feels but not quite managing to reach. And the cardigan is thick, too thick and Blaine's angled badly and can't get enough contact of very much anything.

They both realize it quickly, mouths perfectly content with the situation and only losing contact when Blaine stands up and away from the couch, taking the moment to survey the damage. His boyfriend lagging a little from being kissed quite so thoroughly after wanting it all night is just splayed there, a leg hanging to the ground, the other pressed to the back of the couch, his arms limp, his shirt crumpled and revealing a slither of white skin above his black skin-tight jeans. Blaine's eyes stall at the whisper of hair at the belt buckle. He might be imagining it but he might not and he's ill prepared for the jolt of electricity that races up his spine. Gaze then up to the delicious v-neck and again, something like angel hair his brain provides and he would laugh at that if Kurt weren't suddenly all energy and propelling upwards and kissing him again.

Better contact standing but Kurt has other ideas and whispers in his ear, hot, rough, sexy: "Where's your bed?"

Hand in hand, kind of racing each other, kind of thinking about trying to keep kissing each other all the way there. They hit a wall at some point and it's Kurt against Blaine and the air escapes him and then he's kissed and tugged along but Kurt doesn't know where there going so Blaine takes charge again and ends up backing his boyfriend into the guest room complete with stupidly big bed, stupidly expensive sheets and a stupid number of pillows.

Kurt just pushes him back onto said stupid bed and then he is crawling, _crawling_, over him on all fours, legs straddling him and Blaine cannot process any of this fast enough and that's how Kurt manages to get a wrist beneath each of his hands beside Blaine's head and lean down and kiss him.

Kiss him over and over until Blaine's making girly little whimpering noises that make Kurt grin and move his mouth along his jaw, down his neck. He bites lightly at the pressure point and moans against the skin there as Blaine bucks up against him.

Good god, Blaine Anderson just bucked underneath him. When did his life become this?

That damn woolen cardigan. His hands abandon holding Blaine's wrists and start to tug at the buttons, slipping them out one by one as Blaine's hands slip into his hair and tug him back for another kiss.

Buttons undone, the shirt beneath is much more to Kurt's liking and his hands move up the planes of Blaine's chest, his mind too foggy to take in the detail but relishing in the feel and the heat and the squirming man under him. His lips move away down to the now-revealed right clavicle and lick and bite. He sucks, remembering how Blaine likes that, wanting to push a little and Blaine's hands slip, one to his neck, one down his back, grasping at his shirt until it can get to the skin of his side and holding fast.

Blaine bucks again and Kurt follows him down, pressing to him as best he can through two pairs of jeans and a less than ideal angle but he can feel so much heat and tension and strength and he's spares a moment's thought to any last remnant of his mind that could still rationalize not wanting to devour this boy whole. Presses harder, grinds and Blaine's hands fly down his sides, sticking to the contour until they find his hips and angle and guide and Kurt, without letting his lips leave the neck they are mapping, shifts a knee to between Blaine's and slides down.

No longer straddling, now pressed head to toe and they both let slip guttural moans at the feel. Then Kurt nips at a tendon stretched taut in Blaine's neck and Blaine can feel the beating of a second heart against his chest and then lips beneath his ear and he lets slip a louder than expected call of his boyfriend's name. In the instant Blaine moan Kurt's name like a plea and rocks his hips involuntarily up against Kurt's thigh, the younger boy reacts from sheer reflex and raises a hand to cover Blaine's mouth.

The freeze for any number of reasons and then both laugh, Blaine through the hand pressed over his lips, Kurt even though his brain is on fire with the knowledge that he can most definitely feel another boy's, _Blaine's_, cock pressed through two layers of denim against him.

He wonders if Blaine knows that he knows and then forgets to wonder anything because Blaine's lapping at his palm like a cat and it shouldn't feel this good but it does and then Blaine's wrapped his lips around the tip of his pointer finger and sucked it into his mouth. And he's watching him, staring at Kurt's face inches above his and sucking on one of his fingers and this is one of those things Kurt's never really understood. He's seen it, heard it mentioned in passing in fiction and porn but what could possess someone to bother?

Instant neural connections are formed and as Blaine swirls his tongue around and then sucks a second finger into his mouth Kurt's eyes flutter and he cannot help but think of Blaine's mouth, all that hot wet contact, wrapped around him elsewhere and he's got mental images of that that are now paired up with some very convincing feelings and oh _god_ the sound as Blaine's lips pull off the end and he keeps staring and Kurt fights the need to do something rash.

"Okay?" Blaine asks in a whisper and it take Kurt a good few seconds to realize the word is phrased as a question and that Blaine's asking whether Kurt liked him sucking of his finger because Blaine's never done that before and Kurt cannot find words, it might be the first time ever, so he just finds Blaine's wrist and, balanced on one hand, most of his weight still against the chest beneath him brings Blaine's hand to his mouth and licks a line from the underside of his wrist up.

Licks and listens, ignoring the obscene sounds of his own mouth, to Blaine's reactions and feels him pressing up against him again, rocking his hips, his cock, against his thigh and probably by accident returns the favor. Likes that, _oh so much, _licks more and sucks under the wrist and around the bone there and nips just a little and now Blaine bucks hard and Kurt's sure one of his hips must have just dug in painfully but Blaine seems blissfully unaware with his eyes closed and his head angled back and Kurt bites at his palm and rocks with him.

A harsh moan and Blaine's mumbling "God, it's too much," and pushing away, inexplicably rolling Kurt away and onto his back and making Kurt moan with the loss of it all as Blaine throws an arm over his eyes to keep the sensation out. He can hear Kurt breathing fast and heavy next to him and he feels the bed dip as Kurt props his head up to consider him.

Kurt, not for the first, nor the last time tonight, stares at the splayed body of Blaine beside him. Adores what he sees there even if he's not pleased about not still being pressed to him, feels his heart hammering in his chest as he lets his eyes slide from the flushed neck punctuated with the fading outline of where he's kissed and bitten, down over skin punctuated with sparse dark hair that he wants to run his hands over. Across the rumpled shirt and the devastating lack of skin between it and pants but the vague outline of the planes of a chest and stomach he wants to map with his fingers and his tongue tonight. Now.

Down to his crotch and when did that button come undone? When did he manage that? But it is and Blaine's dark blue jeans are invitingly open to the point where Kurt's pretty confident in labeling Blaine a tight white shorts kind of guy and damn the lack of skin because he wants to _see. _Almost as much as he wants to touch and even in jeans Blaine's arousal is blatant and Kurt's shocked to find himself licking his lips and staring at his sweet, patient boyfriend like he's prey to be hunted.

Stretches over, ignoring the kind of gentlemanly requirement to ask permission that Blaine would obsess over and flexes his fingers only a second before cupping Blaine tentatively. Oh he is _hard_ and delicious and…wriggling.

Blaine's staring at him like a deer in headlights and has managed to put most of the bed between them as he leans against the headboard and breathes heavily. "Kurt, seriously, it's too much."

Hurt eyes because now Kurt's regretting not asking because he's never stopped to consider if Blaine needs things to be slow but then he looks up to apologize and Blaine is staring back at him and there is absolutely no regret or fear or anything of the sort and an alternate interpretation occurs to Kurt.

And he smiles wickedly and who knew that in the heat of the moment Kurt could look like that and Blaine only has a moment to recognize that he was completely right in his recent reassessment of Kurt's potential for sexy before Kurt is bouncing off the bed to stand beside it, eyes not leaving his older, wiser, completely baffled, completely wrecked boyfriend.

And then he just fucking goes for it. Tugs his shirt over his head and shimmies out of his jeans until he's down to his underwear and Blaine just opens and shuts his mouth and tries to drink him in before he climbs back onto the bed and you wouldn't know it, Blaine isn't capable of such analysis, but Kurt is fighting an internal monologue of uncertainty and rejection and he's never, ever liked how he looks undressed, hates the pallor of his skin and the sharpness of his hips and the lack of manly definition to his chest and arms but Blaine must like him because that's it. He _must, _and if he doesn't, well this is going to be embarrassing.

Luckily, Blaine is far too obvious, hips now rocking into empty air and his hands clutching at the sheets. "You think taking your clothes off is going to help?"

"I don't know, you tell me." Kurt is crouched at the other end of the bed, in his underwear but he still manages to sound entirely in control of the situation.

Blaine's got a problem now. Because he held out until he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stop himself if they kept going and here's Kurt pushing him further. And he's torn between his own embarrassment and Kurt's because even though he sounds like he's confident and relaxed there are tell-tale signs, an awkward hair flick, darting eyes, tension in his jaw and his thighs and Blaine has to stop from staring at his thighs and be honest, "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

"Tell me."

Blaine shakes his head, breath catching in his throat as he slowly, carefully moves forward, crawling on all fours to Kurt and presses forward to kiss him hard on the mouth, panting into it, pressing his lips open and hot and losing technique and then he pulls back just an inch, just for a second and he says, "You're gonna make me come, as long as you know that." Clear as a bell because it has to be understood.

Kurt growls into his mouth, low and rumbling and not like a moan but exactly like agreement and want. The kiss becomes even less controlled and if they stopped and considered the mess of sweat and saliva this has become Kurt would be a little unimpressed and Blaine would be a little embarrassed. As it is, now with permission, now with the promise of an end, Blaine's mouth moves down Kurt's neck as his hands reach out and grasp hips and tug and push until Kurt's laid out beneath him and with a groan he presses down, grinding against his naked thigh and why oh why _oh why _is he still wearing his pants?

And oh god that's Kurt hard against his stomach, he'd been patently ignoring the press of Kurt's cock against his thigh and could almost convince himself with all the denim but now, with the angle, with Kurt in only thin cotton and his own stomach only covered by a thin shirt, now he can feel every inch of him.

Kurt's hands are tearing at his sides, forcing his shirt up even though physics dictates that require they stop pressing so close. He's desperate to get at more skin and just touch everything, anything, with his hands. They must look ridiculous.

Blaine's hands return the favor, moving fast and all over and why wouldn't they be? And Kurt, oh good god _Kurt_, - and he maybe says that into his mouth – feels almost exactly how he looks, everything long and smooth and warm. But strength too, taut muscles everywhere, lean but so hard under the soft skin under his hands.

And then Kurt's hands again, over the crotch of his jeans, stroking roughly to get the pressure through the material and Blaine almost loses it right then and there, only the thought that Kurt is almost naked beneath him and hard and this is his chance and he kisses him, distracts him, rolls over him and with a grasp that will bruise ever so slightly he pushes Kurt up to the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Kneels with one leg between Kurt's and kisses him more, nipping and fierce and getting back just as much as he gives.

And then both Blaine's hands are free and against Kurt's body, stroking and caressing across his chest, flicking at nipples because he's read somewhere he should do that and it makes Kurt arch. Then his hands are moving too fast for Kurt to predict, to his cock and Blaine is bold and wraps a hand as best he can around the length of him, fingers pressing through the material and stroking, the other hand on Kurt's thighs and it's no different to when Blaine touches himself but this is Kurt and he is arching and crying out and Blaine watches him and licks the length of Kurt's neck pressed back stretched taut as he pants.

"Blaine, oh my –" bites off the words so Blaine strokes firmer and faster and when Kurt's eyes spring open – desperation, love, uncertainty, heat – Blaine just grinds down against the warmth and strength of the thigh beneath him, willing his body to wait and moves in desperation because this can't last. Moves his spare hand to Kurt's balls and thanks god that Kurt wears such thin underwear and was daring enough to get rid of his jeans and Kurt's whispering his name over and over and Blaine whimpers his name back and they're still staring at each other when Kurt whispers "Fuck" and arches so far from the pillows that Blaine can smell the sex between them and feel the heat of his body stretched out and can only watch his eyes as he pumps against his hands without rhythm, shaking and mumbling and at some point launching himself into his boyfriend and wrapping his arms firmly around him as his body continues to tremble in the aftermath.

That's as much as it takes, watching and hearing Kurt come hard and out of control and in his underwear and against Blaine's hand while he tastes his mouth and the sweat on his skin and then feeling Kurt pressed close to him again, shivers racing through him as his muscles lose their tension and he sags is more than enough. With a moan and a rock up into the press of flesh, Blaine's cock strains – _more,_ _now, please –_ against pants he hates for being there. And then Blaine's lips find Kurt's neck and he sucks hard and _Oh. God. Yes. _he finally lets himself come. Kurt doesn't let go, lets Blaine's hips rock hard into the underside of his thigh as he rides his orgasm out with a growl and then there's almost silence.

The roar of blood in their ears dies, their breathing begins to level and the continuous stream of monosyllabic words and nouns and noises dies away. They're left clinging to each other in a sprawl of limbs with their arms wrapped around each other and chins on shoulders and eyes squeezed shut. Blaine's the first to realize how sticky and gross and ludicrous this all must be and tries to disentangle but Kurt's arms hold tight for a second longer and he mumbles something unintelligible against his ear and then pulls back just far enough to kiss him. Open mouthed, wet and incoherent, as appears to be the new fashion. Then he really does pull away, gingerly, wondering what to do now. He's terrified because it's not uncomfortable but it could be. Perhaps should be. But he's exhausted and can feel the chemicals in his blood still rushing so he just settles for pulling Blaine down to lie side by side across the bed.

It might be seconds or minutes but eventually the stickiness gets the better of Kurt and he mutters, "We really need to get cleaned up."

Blaine turns his head to meet Kurt's gaze and is relieved to see his dopey grin mirrored. "I know. Can't be bothered."

Kurt's eyes sharpen and he pushes up onto an elbow. "Can you…um…can you take off you shirt?"

When did Kurt get so bold?

Blaine just raises an eyebrow clearly not understanding the request but being reminded of the expanses of sweat-slicked skin facing him and letting his eyes trace as much as they can. He'll be damned if he doesn't want to spend the next 24 hours just committing it to memory, inch by inch. Mostly with his mouth.

Maybe he does understand the request. With the languid, lazy movements of the recently sated, Blaine seems determined to get his shirt off without actually moving from his rather comfortable position on the bed. So he struggles and Kurt laughs lightly and Blaine hopes it's not at him and hopes he doesn't have to get his pants off next because they feel uncomfortably messy and he knows he will go incredibly red.

Shirt off, Kurt's voice is lower than usual and breathless when he mumbles, "I really like that," almost to himself. "I wanted it, just before but couldn't get to it. I'd never really thought about it, distracted by other bits of you, I think, but now…"

Blaine only vaguely realizes Kurt's talking about him because the scratchiness to his voice is entirely too appealing and then Kurt reaches out and runs a hand over his chest, from one clavicle down over the scattering of hair and a nipple and Blaine's breath catches in his throat as Kurt's hand caresses over ribs and muscle, a single finger circling his navel and then tracing the line of hair down to the top elastic of his white underwear that's still showing where the button of Blaine's pants is undone and the zipper half descended.

Leaning forward Kurt presses their lips together and lets his hand move back and forth against Blaine's lower abdomen. When a sigh slips from his mouth and his nails scratch lightly Blaine's body shivers beneath him and then he's rolling off the bed and standing beside it and stating the obvious: "Now it really is too much. And we really need to clean up. I'm all sticky and gross."

Kurt blushes against the sheets and wonders how uncomfortable he should feel to be lying there, messy and flushed while Blaine's stretching his body out and looking amazing in jeans that have slipped half way down his ass. "It really makes me a bit weird that I like you sweaty and sticky and gross?" Kurt's asks tentatively.

But Blaine laughs and then groans and keeps rolling his shoulders back which is making Kurt want to lay his hands against them and feel the movement. And he sees Blaine watching him back, sees his eyes darkened and his lips parted and so Kurt smiles and stretches himself out, pointing his toes and working out the kinks in his legs from all the stupid angles they've just managed. His hands slip behind his head and he doesn't know it – eventually Blaine will convince him – but he looks bold and taut and pale and fucking amazing.

Blaine's pants still feel gross. Reluctantly, he says, "I'm going to go shower and then I think we should curl up downstairs and watch the end of that movie. Sound okay?"

Kurt nods his agreement and starts to move pulling himself to sit at the edge of the bed and Blaine watches and Kurt watches back and wants. "Sounds very okay. I need to shower as well and then I might slip into something more comfortable," he waggles his eyebrows suggestively but only means his pajamas. "Is there another bathroom I can use?"

"Just go one room over, I'll grab you a towel." Blaine disappears for a second into his en suite and returns, throwing a fluffy blue towel in Kurt's direction. It smells of Blaine, clean and crisp, and obviously he's used it before. Kurt wonders if he gave it to him on purpose.

Then they just kind of stand there and it's the first time they've felt properly awkward since this whole thing began. They're both thinking about the enormity of what they've done and yet, at the same time, the inevitability of it and how right it all felt and without really speaking they both seem to come to the decision that it shouldn't be awkward at all.

Kurt's a bit pleased he was a bitch about Blaine's perfectly good pizza.

"I'll see you downstairs later then," Blaine says as he pauses in the en suite doorway still openly staring, still neglecting to do his jeans up properly. He smiles, because this feels like such a silly final moment for it all.

"Yep," Kurt says sounding all too happy and then bounces out the door.

Blaine stares after him, shocked at the outline of an ass to rival his own and he hadn't even noticed, hadn't even paid attention until that moment because it had all been touch and he hadn't had a second to look. But now he knew and in future he would make time for staring at that ass.

A half smile as he closes the bathroom door half way and leans and leans around the glass partition to start the spray of water. He can't remember ever, ever feeling this good. Can't believe Kurt came after him, albeit rather bitchily, but he wanted him, desperately and he kind of just took him. Damn, he had so planned on this just being heavy-petting, that was a step up for them, he hadn't meant this to be the first time that he, they, came together. Fuck, that's exactly what they have just done.

He feels a sudden, silly need to go and tell Kurt that. He resists and pulls off his jeans and underwear in one go.

They're going to do this again. And again and again and more. Blaine shakes his head to clear the images and steps under the steaming water. Ten seconds later he's humming to himself and seconds after that he's broken into full-blown song. Like he could really help himself.

Outside the bathroom, outside the bedroom, Kurt's leaning back against the wall and he can hear Blaine belting out notes and occasionally missing them and he can't quite breathe properly for grinning like an idiot. He should go and shower and pull on some pants and a top and then go downstairs and maybe find a snack and wait on the couch.

But he really, really doesn't want to.

_Yeah I may have left that a bit open for a sequel there. Maybe, just maybe. I'm not sure yet. Anyway, some light smut to end/start you day. First time writing these boys so I'd love, as always to hear what you thought. I've been so pleased to get so many lovely reviews recently, it's a real ego boost and makes me want to write more! So thank you very much to all those who take time to review. Hooray!_


	2. Dynamic

Title: Dynamic: a sequel to Progressive.

Rating: Even slightly more M than last time.

Warnings: I don't like to spoil things so I'll just say there are very brief flashes of mild kinks but I doubt if you are here to read something slashy you have anything to worry about.

Spoilers: Nothing new, just up to ep 16.

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your lovely reviews. You guys really know how to make a girl's day/tempt me into writing more. And this was meant to be just a bit of an epilogue, just fast and sexy but ended up just as long as the first part. It's smutty and playful and hopefully you like it! Tell me if you do or if you don't!

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><p>Of course Blaine would sing in the shower. Of Course. Kurt could have guessed that. If you'd asked him yesterday he could have conjured half-formed images of Blaine naked and wet and crooning away that would have made him blush and half-heartedly chastise himself for entertaining such voyeuristic thoughts. But now voyeurism doesn't seem like such a terrible idea because not twenty feet from Kurt Blaine is actually, <em>really, <em>wet and naked and in the shower. Granted, not so much crooning as belting and rather making a mess of it and wouldn't David and Wes be mortified to hear this?

Kurt just keeps mouthing the words, "Yes, yes I do," silently and in between breathless giggles. He doesn't mind so much the slightly off-pitch, slightly scratchy rendition of 'Do You Think I'm Sexy'. Sure it would be amazing with the layered backing vocals of the full set of Warblers and Blaine all straight-laced in his blazer and buffed shoes and jumping on the furniture but perhaps not as amazing as this. A hand curls around the doorframe to the bedroom and Kurt's head follows as he dares to look in. He allows a moment's glance at the rumpled bed they've just…what to call what they've just done?

The technical pornographic phrases come to mind but they're not particularly pretty words and certainly aren't about to comfortably roll off the tongue. They don't even begin to convey the reality of it either. But if Kurt closes his eyes, even just an extra second as he blinks, he remembers and, fuck…how had he ever doubted any of it?

The moment of fond (hot) remembrance over, his eyes skip over where his discarded clothes are lying in a heap topped with Blaine's shirt and to the half-opened bathroom door through which light and steam and continued rough musical notes are escaping. He allows himself a half-grin and debates just how inappropriate this is, just how badly it could go. Because he's still wearing just his underwear and they are sticking to him and extremely uncomfortable and rather gross and Blaine is in there naked, unsuspecting and they haven't really talked about what happened nor what will happen next nor what it all means. Not that Kurt's worried. Coming in his underwear and then feeling Blaine do the same has to be the best experience of his life to date bar none and it should have been awkward and embarrassing but it just felt way too hot and good and Kurt has never managed to come that hard on his own. So, no, Kurt's not worried. And with that little internal dialogue over, Kurt is left just _wanting_.

With sudden determination he crosses the room and slips, just fitting, through the half-open door without a sound. The steam hits him at the same time as the stark light of an overly white room. The image follows a second later of the blurred outline of Blaine completely naked, his back to Kurt and his head angled up into the water. Smoked glass makes the details impossible to discern but the outline is enough to make Kurt's eyes widen and his breath stop.

He hasn't really thought this through and now he kind of wants to run away because this is just plain weird and over-stimulating and what the hell was the plan here? There's no way to announce his presence without scaring the crap out of his boyfriend and there's no way for him not to come off as inappropriate because as much as he wants to run he kind of wants to stare a bit more and so he does. Even blurred he can see the hard lines that make up his boyfriend's body, can guess at the contours of it all and, as Blaine turns slightly and Kurt thinks for a second he's about to be caught, he can see the superb curve of his ass.

He's not singing anymore. Having run through the entire song, twice, he's settled for the occasional hum as his hands skim his body and his head bops to the music in his mind. Kurt thinks his eyes are probably closed and again feels panic rising in him as he debates a suitable course of action. And no matter how hard he tries to convince himself this is a terrible idea and he's a complete idiot and Blaine is going to kill him he can't stop staring and wanting and, oh well, if Blaine does kill him he'll die relatively happy and a little turned on.

Later he will argue he was a bit drunk off the adrenaline of the night.

Kurt crosses the large bathroom silently, barely sparing a moment to appreciate the size of the shower and the minimalist design of just kind of cutting half the room off with a shadowy piece of glass and leaving space and water. And then he's at the glass, letting his hand brush the edge of it as he dares to look around and dropping his towel to the floor there.

Whatever he thought about the blurred version of naked Blaine, the sharply defined version is about ten different kinds of better, _more_. And Blaine still hasn't seen him, still manages to have his back to him and Kurt aches and flushes with the urge to just reach out and turn him around and look him over properly.

"Don't freak out." Probably isn't the best thing to say, though whatever Kurt might have said Blaine was going to react this same way. Saying 'Don't freak out' really just adds some dramatic irony to the situation.

Blaine's eyes were closed but at the sudden sound of his boyfriend standing pretty damn close, they spring open and then close again quickly at the harsh spray of water. He angles himself even more away from Kurt reflexively, showing him the expanse of his back and both his hands have flown to cover his crotch. Kurt's actually trying pretty hard not to smile and stare at his spluttering boyfriend who has moved out of the water and is looking over his shoulder while rapidly blinking to get the water out of his eyes.

Kurt's torn between thinking about just how scorchingly hot Blaine looks naked and shifting from one foot to the other under the very freaked out glare directed his way.

"Kurt?" Blaine asks, voice high and uncertain. Kurt makes no move to respond and his eyes are slowly slipping down Blaine's back again. "What are you doing?"

"How was I meant to resist?" he replies rather absently and he's chewing on his bottom lip and most certainly not giving Blaine any kind of eye-contact but staring elsewhere.

"Close your eyes," Blaine snaps just a little harshly because he'd been feeling great and now this is ruining it and maybe he's being silly but who the hell sneaks up on you in the shower?

Kurt huffs and finally meets Blaine's gaze over his shoulder. "You can't seriously expect me to believe you're self-conscious."

"Why not?" Blaine hisses, trying valiantly to ignore the spark in Kurt's eyes and the way the spray of the shower off his back and the walls is slowly wetting Kurt's own skin. Trying to stay angry at the intrusion even though he suspects most of that anger came from surprise.

Kurt answers without seeing any of the internal debate in Blaine's eyes. Mostly because he's staring at the two punctuating dimples at the base of Blaine's back and trying to imagine how well his thumbs could fit there. "You look…" he struggles to find words that aren't altogether too brash or crass for him to speak. "I mean, look at you. And we just..." Again his vocabulary lets him down. "What we just did kind of means this can't be awkward. Doesn't it?"

Eyes back up, because he's not sure he's right and there's an edge of doubt to his voice and he hates that he can't express himself because he's always been so talented when it came to using words. Of course, Blaine recognizes the doubt there and hates the idea that the temptation for Kurt to retreat back into himself is still there because that's the last thing he wants.

So he says again, much more gently, "Close your eyes."

Kurt's lips purse as though he's still trying to come up with a way to argue his way out of this, perhaps apologize, but he acquiesces.

Now or never, right? Blaine could slip past and grab a towel and leave. He turns, eyes glued to Kurt's closed ones and steps through the spray so that it's running down his back again and not clouding his vision. And then his own eyes slip down and he is already amazed he could be stupid enough to want to escape and he's taking in every inch of smooth pale skin again and marveling at the tiny droplets of water clinging to the hair on Kurt's chest and running down his stomach and soaking his underwear which is leaving even less to the imagination now than before and Kurt is hard just from looking and any doubt Blaine still had evaporates.

He moves so fast that it makes Kurt jump a little because he hadn't dared to entertain thoughts of this eventuating. One of Blaine's hands stretches out to wrap across Kurt's jaw and the other grabs the waistband of his underwear and both drag him in. They are flush and pressing and Blaine kisses him for all he's worth. Kurt's eyes spring open for only a moment but by now Blaine's are closed and then Kurt's only concern is kissing him back.

Wet and hot and fierce and Blaine steps back, dragging Kurt with him under the spray and then his hand's slipping into Kurt's underwear and wrapping around him and stroking. Kurt's mouth pulls away from Blaine's to groan and that's probably the loudest, most open, most raw sound Blaine's heard emanating from him to date. That thought makes him shiver as his lips just cross his cheek, kissing still as he continues to stroke, desperate to pull the noise from him again. Kurt's mouth finds his though and his teeth are across the bottom lip even as Blaine's other hand moves down and pulls the underwear away from his hips, shoving them down and then Kurt's hands move to help and eventually they both hear the sodden material hit the ground with a slap and Kurt kicks them away.

They press together. And it's a tangled mess of limbs and sounds and fuck this is not going to take very much at all because they can feel each other – all of each other – and Kurt's hands have found Blaine's ass and Blaine's are at Kurt's hips but then they slip down and he was right about Kurt's ass being amazing because it is all firm smooth muscle and he digs his fingers in just a little and pulls him closer.

They both faintly realize that the all-encompassing feeling of flesh on flesh and water and heat is punctuated by sharp awareness: Kurt's hips digging in just above Blaine's. Blaine's fingers curling around Kurt's ass. The scratch of thicker hair against Kurt's chest and down his belly. And it isn't just the press of ubiquitous flesh and mouths and fingers, Blaine can feel Kurt's erection against his, moving against him and it feels just as good as before but more raw and open and Blaine's matching Kurt's sharp movements and standing just slightly on his toes and Kurt, perhaps, has bent his knees just a little to ensure the contact and their hands are _everywhere._

Still kissing, though with no real finesse, and the speed of all this would be embarrassing if they weren't in it together. But…Blaine's hands move back to Kurt's hips and push him away, not far but far enough and he's pulling his lips away and dipping his head even as Kurt whines his name is annoyance and need and Blaine's growling back because that tone _does _something to him. "Just wait, I wanna look at you," he mumbles, shocked at the roughness of his own voice but immediately distracted as his eyes adjust to the bright light of the room and he lets his gaze slip down Kurt's body.

Kurt manages to bite him playfully on the shoulder before his brain catches up and his own gaze wanders and the seconds pass as they both just stare, hands mostly dormant, resting on opposite hips or shoulders or waists. Seconds that move slowly and quickly at once and Kurt's not entirely sure he'll ever get sick of looking at this but Blaine notices the subtle tilt of his hips towards him, unconscious, and moves. Slowly, deliberately, still entranced by the angles and curves in front of him, his hand finds his own length and wraps around, knowing Kurt is watching, reveling in it. Strokes a couple of times just to hear the catch in the other boy's breath mingle with his own and then steps the half foot forward and catches both cocks in his palm. It's a miracle that Kurt's hips rocking instantly forward doesn't ruin the symmetry, Blaine's hand holding and squeezing, encouraging the rub of hard-soft flesh for the briefest of moments as both boys stare.

Blaine can't find words and this doesn't feel as good as before – the movement too restricted – but the spectacle makes up for it. Kurt's forehead just balances on his boyfriend's shoulder and at some point the water's gone from steaming to lukewarm but neither one of them cares because they're no longer standing directly under it. Breath heavy, eyes wide, Kurt can only whisper in wonderment "Oh my god, Blaine," into the air between them and then, "This is…fuck."

And Blaine's head snaps up and his hand drops away and Kurt's back hits the freezing tiled wall before he even realized Blaine is pushing him. Arches away from the cold and into the heat of Blaine's body pressing over his and a searing kiss that catches him unawares even as Blaine's hands scratch down his sides and hold his hips steady as he grinds against him. The wall is still cold but the heat in front of him makes up for it and the spray of the now-cold water is two feet away and Kurt kisses him back until Blaine's mouth moves to find more, moves over his jaw and down his neck and he's sucking and nipping hard and it stings and feels marvelous at the same time and Kurt feels himself groaning, thinks to cut it off but then thinks better and let's the sound shudder out of his throat so that it vibrates against Blaine's mouth. Feels Blaine's hips buck against his, out of control, a second later.

Has to ask because that thought has occurred to him several times in the last two months: "Is this my voice doing stuff to you?" What an ineloquent way of phrasing that question but with his hands against Blaine's chest, caressing through coarse hair made soft by the water, Kurt's impressed he can form words at all.

The still-roughened quality of it is there though and Blaine's insistently pressing his cock against Kurt's, rutting hopelessly, just wanting release. And mostly ignoring the words.

"Blaine, please," Kurt presses, making his voice just that little bit higher, slightly keening, slightly pleading for a response. Maybe all a bit on purpose. "I want to know."

And he gets to watch the play of torture over Blaine's face as he forces himself to slow his hips slightly and rein in control because now, _now, _Kurt wants to be inquisitive. "Of course it's your voice. It's all of you. But your voice does something to me, I didn't even really realize it until you said 'fuck' when you came and then said it again in here and it's the same as me: you don't swear outside the bedroom and I didn't expect if from you because you are always, always so fast and witty with the words and then now you're not at all. And the sounds you make, Kurt you have no idea how much it turns me on to hear you like that."

"You do that to me," Kurt says, hands across Blaine's cheeks and his voice almost shy, as though he's admitting to something they didn't both already know. "But I…" he cuts himself off and it's doubly ironic for the situation and what he wants to say. Blaine's stilled entirely, waiting and pressing light kisses to Kurt's collarbone as he lets his breathing level out. "I'm so used to keeping quiet when I touch myself and when I come."

That image. That voice. Blaine's eyes flutter shut and he groans into Kurt's shoulder.

"It's a habit you're going to have to break." Kurt's smiling and Blaine sees it and notes the playfulness in his voice and the flush to his cheeks.

"Is that meant to be a challenge?" Blaine throws back, voice husky with untapped potential and himself still slightly amazed he's managed to get this boy to this state, looking like he does, talking like he is.

Kurt just manages the coyest of shrugs which isn't all that coy since they're still naked and a bit wet and Blaine's just looking at him like he could eat him up at the drop of a hat.

"Fine," Blaine whispers, leaning in for another kiss and then turning off the water and plunging the room into unexpected silence. "You cold?" he asks, all rather endearingly, as he walks, raised slightly on his toes, around the glass partition and pulls a towel from the rack.

"No," is Kurt's distracted answer because his head's still spinning a bit and he can't imagine where Blaine's gone but then he's comes back with the towel over his shoulder and not even a little abashed and Kurt lets his eyes wander before he remembers his confusion.

"You trust me?" Blaine asks, voice low again, his own eyes wandering.

And in the past that would have been a trigger for Kurt, something that sent him into a panic but at some point that's changed and even though they still haven't really talked about it Kurt finds himself saying, "Always."

"Just tell me to stop if you want to," and now Blaine sounds a little unsure and a hand has drifted to Kurt's abdomen and is pushing him back against the wall, holding him in place without any real insistence to the touch. The towel is dropped to the ground between them and still Kurt just looks confused and Blaine kissing him hard and with promise doesn't answer the obvious question of where this is headed but when his lips slip away with a wet sound and Kurt's eyes flutter open, Blaine's fallen to his knees in front of him and that question has been answered.

Even if he wanted to speak (because that was meant to be the plan, wasn't it?) Kurt couldn't at this point. Because this is so much more than he set out to achieve tonight and he's not sure he's ready but then he hadn't planned any of this and why should they stop? Why? The warmth flooding his body at just the idea of what's going to happen speaks volumes against stopping so any such rationale is pushed to the back of his mind.

Blaine's staring up at him, waiting, patiently, actually fighting off the urge to do something rash because he actually really wants to do this even though until tonight it hadn't been very high on his list of things to do. Something's changed. But he does not want to push Kurt. Never wants to be that guy.

Kurt smiles weakly and one of his hands automatically curls into Blaine's hair, still dripping wet but soft and within reaching distance. The other rests against the wall and he gives a small nod.

Permission granted, Blaine leans closer, a hand slipping around Kurt's cock and he's already basking in the familiarity of the fit, stroking slow and loose. His mouth finds the sharp edge of Kurt's hip and kisses lightly. Just pressure from his lips and Kurt's hips move slightly in response. More kisses, still just lips on skin, across the smooth skin of his stomach, beneath his navel and across to the opposite hip. Kissing again. Pulling back, looking up and locking eyes. Smiling and it's a little bit wicked and a little bit seductive and neither one of them has any comprehension of where the power lies at this point.

"I'm new to this," Blaine explains, though Kurt knows well enough that they're technically on equal footing by now. "So you'll have to tell me," he lets the sentence hang and Kurt recognizes the playful manipulation for what it is.

Blaine's lips, back on his hip, another gentle kiss that moves across the same path to the other side and then back, all the while Blaine's hand limply stroking.

Kurt would be angry if he wasn't desperate and fascinated and still stupidly turned on. "Blaine," he says and it's rough just like Blaine likes it and a bit high and rather shameless. "Please."

Blaine swallows and smiles against the skin he's patiently kissing. Murmurs against him and feels a shiver beneath his lips, "Please what?"

"You're really going to make me say this stuff?" Kurt wishes he'd managed to make that sound as bitchy and unimpressed as he'd wanted, instead it just sounds like he's already rather resigned to it. Blaine just keeps kissing. "More. Please."

Blaine decides that the breathless quality is worth rewarding and he's trying very hard not to rush and not to reach down and touch himself because he so badly wants to. Gentle escalation. When his lips reach the hipbone this time the press of his mouth is anything but chaste, he lets hips lips slide across hotly and laps at the skin, tastes the water and sweat and listens for the low sound to escape Kurt's lips, wonders if it was conscious of it or not but loves it nonetheless. Is fascinated by the way Kurt oscillates between high and low pitch without any discernable pattern.

Laps across the skin, tongue dipping into his navel this time before moving on and at the other side his lips settle lower than before and he lets his teeth scratch and sucks until Kurt's hips are inches off the wall and another drawn out groan has been wrenched from his lips. Kisses back, nuzzling at one spot, nudging at the light trail of hair beneath Kurt's navel with his nose, licks at the skin again.

"Blaine," and his name is keened this time, drawn into a half a dozen syllables and Blaine can't help but touch himself just to relieve some of the pressure because he is aching for attention but not wanting to stop what he's doing, not at all because Kurt's panting, just a little and the hand wrapped in his hair is pushing him lower.

Blaine complies, kneeling low enough to press a kiss to Kurt's thigh, another nip rewarded with a growl and he's still not stroking Kurt anywhere near fast enough or tight enough to get him off and Kurt hates him for doing this but kind of loves it as well. Actually really loves it and will later try to work out why but right now he just needs _more. _

"Blaine," he tries again, still high and kind of almost begging.

Blaine just stretches out his back, moving up on his knees until his face is far too high for what Kurt needs and he's looking at him and asking, the picture of innocence, "Yes dear?"

Kurt just looks horrified, pulling a face and they both laugh because that is _not_ one of their pet names and now is definitely not the time to try it out. The laughter dies but Blaine doesn't move.

Fine, Kurt isn't one to back down and what was meant to be atrociously fast has now played out atrociously long. "Blaine," he makes it low and breathy on purpose and watches Blaine lick his lips in response. "I want you mouth on me now."

It takes every ounce of will power for Blaine not to give in. Just responds sweetly, "That's what I've been doing."

Eyes narrowed, hips trying to force the friction against Blaine's hand, Kurt groans for show and then just says exactly what he's thinking, no longer caring how stupid it might sound. "No, you're teasing me, you're actually kind of being a cocktease which I always suspected you of. And I'm actually kind of loving it but at this point I really, _really_ need your mouth on my dick. I need you to make me come and I promise if you just fucking suck me – because that's how it works isn't it? – I will talk to you and groan at you and growl and hum and sing and whatever you want. Anything." And his voice breaks a little, losing it's grip. "But I need you to make me come, now. Please? Oh god, Blaine, please."

And Kurt's a little bit impressed with how well he managed to get all that out and is refusing to think back over what he's said for fear of blushing down to his knees and is a bit scared of making eye-contact with Blaine but kind of has to so he does.

Blaine's just staring up at him and then reaching with a hand up and somehow coaxing Kurt down far enough to kiss him hard, swallowing another needy sound. When he releases him and Kurt's back straightens against the tiles, Blaine's hand has tightened, is stroking harder. Still not enough and Blaine would like to say something witty now but it's all just too tempting and Kurt just called him a cocktease and demanded he suck him and hearing all that is an unbelievable turn on.

He's never done this before but the way Kurt's hips are rocking, the length of the wait, the teasing, Blaine hopes it won't be too difficult. He considers, feels the blood thrum in his veins because he thinks he might want to do this just slightly more than Kurt wants him to and then presses his lips gently to the tip.

Kurt's hips snap forward and Blaine reels back quickly to avoid a collision. Kurt's saying "Oh fuck I'm sorry," and it just makes him hotter. Both Kurt's hands are in Blaine's hair now, tangled, pulling, edging on annoying. The hand not holding Kurt's length comes up to press against his hip, holding him flat against the wall.

Again, he presses a kiss to the tip of Kurt's cock, again Kurt's hips rock but now more controlled, mostly by Blaine's hand pushing him back. Blaine looks up, his lips resting there as he breathes in, considering the scent and the look in his boyfriend's eyes. Kurt just groans at the image and begs a little more.

Slowly, still deliberately, still wary of the danger of Kurt's hips, Blaine lets his lips slip down over the head of Kurt's cock, tastes him – salty and sharp and already leaking – remembers to keep his teeth covered and his other hand wrapped around the base.

Kurt's swearing again, breathless and desperate and saying Blaine's name over and over as Blaine experimentally slips his lips up and down a few inches and dares to lick at the underside with his tongue. Sucks and Kurt sounds wrecked above him as he chokes through a breath. More bold, still no technique, Blaine pulls his lips off with a wet pop and runs them down the length, tongue licking the same path over and over and then slipping back over the head to suck. Back down and he nuzzles at the dense hair at the base and strokes and licks, lips moving to Kurt's balls and pressing open-mouthed kisses there as well. Can't get enough.

Kurt's breath rattles and then his voice cuts the air again, "Blaine I am so fucking close."

Blaine just moves his own hips in response, though there's no friction to be had, and smiles and runs his lips up the length again but Kurt's hands grip at his hair too much, pulling and he's demanding, "Get up here," and Blaine would do just about anything he's told at this point, scrambles to his feet. One of his hands still stroking as Kurt angles his lips into his and kisses and then slips a hand down to wrap around Blaine and talks against his lips, small noises escaping with every other breath.

"Oh god I want you to come with me," he begs and it's almost a sob, a delicious sob that vibrates over Blaine's lips and he doesn't have to be asked twice.

"Harder," is all he says and Kurt's hand holds tighter, stroking faster, more friction, more heat. Blaine tries to match the tempo with his strokes, fails magnificently but it doesn't matter. He's on the edge from this taking too long and being too much and listening and touching and feeling Kurt in his mouth and against him and everywhere. He could let it all go at any second, begs Kurt back, voice low and catching, "Come for me. Kurt I need you to come for me."

A cry escapes Kurt, surprise mingling with the intensity of every inch of him tensing deliciously as his gaze finds Blaine's and holds and his back arches, the heat inside him coiling too tight and then breaking into a million pieces as he lets his hips rock in short sharp bursts into Blaine's hand, coming hard and splattering Blaine's stomach and cock and his own hand where he's stopped stroking but it doesn't matter because Blaine just thrusts one final time into the tightness of Kurt's curled fingers and growls his own release, mirroring the friction and rocking hips and the splatter of come across his boyfriend's body.

Kurt leans back against the wall, no longer cold at all, and Blaine leans in against him, a wet lazy kiss lasting only a second before they both realize they're too breathless for that and they just stand gulping down air. They should be exhausted, they kind of are, but they're also grinning and still running high on the adrenaline.

For whatever reason, Kurt drags a finger over a droplet of come resting on Blaine's abdomen, spreads it in a circle. "I would have finished, you know," Blaine says, catching Kurt's wrist and holding his hand still against his stomach. Kurt looks confused, again. "I kinda wanted to," Blaine admits and, before he has time to over think, he lifts Kurt's hand to his mouth and sucks the smeared finger between his lips, lapping at the liquid, tasting Kurt and liking the implication, the ownership, if not entirely decided about the taste.

Kurt stares and licks his own lips and tries not to focus too much on the lap of Blaine's tongue at his finger. Reaches his other hand down to his own stomach, runs a finger across and then sucks it into his mouth. Blaine's watching, pulling Kurt's finger out of his mouth, and suddenly feeling the intimacy of it all.

Kist just smiles around his own finger, unable to tear his thoughts very far from the fact that he has Blaine's very essence in his mouth. Makes a big show of pulling the finger from his lips with a pop and swallowing all too audibly and giggling at Blaine's expression.

"Can we kiss after that?" he wonders out loud.

Blaine just laughs again and pulls him forward, sharing a kiss that isn't heated or chaste but experimental, mouths opening and tongues caressing and tastes exchanged. They pull back still smiling and Blaine speaks first. "It's weird, right?"

Kurt nods. "Weird but kind of hot."

Blaine laughs. Again. And none of this is uncomfortable, it's all just perfect. "Another shower?"

Kurt's already turning the taps, testing the water. "We can have showers together now," he points out sounding strangely proud of that fact.

Blaine joins him under the water, not touching but watching. "As long as we're not in a hurry."

"You were the one that dragged that out," Kurt points out, watching Blaine back, hands on auto-pilot as they skim over his skin.

"That's not how I see it at all!" Blaine counters. Kurt just laughs more and runs a hand down Blaine's chest.

The shower is quick, their legs unsteady as they towel off, eyes still insisting on lingering on the other. Blaine's hand finds Kurt's once they're dry and pulls him back into the bedroom, dimming the lights and pulling back the covers as they arrange towels over the pillows to keep their wet hair from ruining them. He climbs in and Kurt follows so that they're facing each other, the covers pulled up tight and warm and only the whisper of fingertips and knees touching.

"I want to talk about all of this," Blaine says because he isn't really sleepy and they need to.

Kurt murmurs his agreement, eyes still sparkling and sharp. "I'm happy," he says simply and Blaine grins. "But yes, lets chat. You can explain to me this strange talking kink we've uncovered."

Blaine looks mildly outraged at the accusation but Kurt just laughs at him and waits for his comeback. They banter for a few minutes, testing the relationship, searching for a change in dynamic and not really finding one. The conversation turns to the night's events, the developments and mostly they just find themselves letting silence stretch between them as they think. Much later, Kurt asks Blaine a pointed question about his knees and gets no response, waits and listens to the breathing and realizes he's asleep, can just make out the shadows of his eyelashes against his skin and the smile on his lips. Reaching out, Kurt laces his fingers through Blaine's, closes his own eyes and seconds later, joins him in slumber.

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><p>So that was meant to be 2000 words. It was meant to be all short and sharp and fast and it just didn't happen. Oops. Anyway, hope you've enjoyed the sequel, I certainly enjoyed writing it even if I can't listen to the Warblers rendition of "Do You Think I'm Sexy" without giggling like an idiot any more. As always your feedback makes my day! It really, really does. So pretty please leave me a review!<p> 


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